Another knock, and Glyma said, “Oh my gods, I’m coming. Give a girl a second.”
She looked through the peephole—safety first—and startled. What the fuck was Quin doing here? Had something happened? Had the final version of the rental agreement been denied?
Unlocking the door, Glyma yanked it open. “What’s going on? Did someone die?”
“Whoa,” Quin said, palms up in surrender, “you’re coming in hot.”
“You’re the one showing up unannounced in the middle of night,” Glyma said.
With a snort of steam from her nose, Quin stomped a hoof. “I told Waryn it was too late, but he insisted. And then he kept sayinggenital smooshing, so I ran away. I couldn’t hear him say it again, Glym. It was mentally and emotionally scarring, and I don’t know how I’ll ever recover!”
“Okay, now,you’recoming in hot.”
Quin deflated. “Sorry. May I come in, please?”
Glyma stepped aside, and Quin entered, fingers fidgeting. She closed the door behind the Daemon and followed her into the small living room. Quin paced from left to right several times, clenching, then unclenching her hands. Glyma’s anxiety rose the longer she paced, but she focused on deep breaths, giving Quin time to compose herself.
Well, she tried to give Quin time, but since she had less patience, Glyma eventually blurted out, “Are we going to talk about the genital smooshing?”
Quin made a face. “I’d rather not.”
“Fair enough.”
Glyma crossed her arms over her chest, tail flicking nervously behind her. Quin looked more disheveled than Glyma had ever seen her. Her blazer was unbuttoned and her shirt was nearly untucked on one side. Several locs had fallen out of the knot atop of her head, and her face was flushed unnaturally.
In fact, one side of her face looked more flushed than the other, and it was puffy. The veins in her eyes were prominent and gray, which meant she’d been crying, and even now, she kept sniffling and wiping her nose on her sleeve.
“You were crying, and your cheek is swollen,” Glyma said, and Quin froze. “Quin, what happened?”
“My mother hit me,” she said, and for a moment Glyma saw red.
Her vision sharpened, and barely contained rage roared through her veins. Quin’s eyes widened in alarm, which meant Glyma’s pupils were doing that weird diamond-thing that happened when she got upset—or horny. Not wanting to scare her, Glyma closed her eyes and breathed through the anger, forcing it to settle.
“Are you alright?” she asked when she had her temper under control.
Quin nodded, sniffling again. “Yes. It wasn’t that hard.”
“That’s not the point,” Glyma said.
“I know,” Quin said quietly.
“Why did she hit you?”
She started fidgeting again. “Because I told her I didn’t want to marry Waryn. I told her I didn’t want to marry any man.”
Oh. Oh, oh, oh, Glyma was not prepared for this.
Slowly, cautiously, she closed the distance between them and took Quin’s fidgeting hands in hers. “And she hit you?”
“Not then, no. I… we argued, and I said—it doesn’t matter.”
“It matters—”
“That’s not why I’m here,” Quin insisted, squeezing Glyma’s hands. “I’m not going to marry Waryn. My mother threatened to ruin his reputation unless I did, so I thought I had to. Because he’s my friend, and I do love him. Notthatway, of course, but I still do.”
“Of course, you love him,” Glyma said.
“But he said I was being a daft dyke,” Quin said, and Glyma couldn’t stop a bark of laughter. Quin chuckled self-consciously and ducked her head. “I suppose I can be a bit thick sometimes.”
